[McTeague by Frank Norris]@TWC D-Link book
McTeague

CHAPTER 18
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"Eight o'clock already," she exclaimed.

"I must get to work." She cleared the breakfast things from the table, and drawing up her chair and her workbox began painting the sets of Noah's ark animals she had whittled the day before.

She worked steadily all the morning.
At noon she lunched, warming over the coffee left from breakfast, and frying a couple of sausages.

By one she was bending over her table again.

Her fingers--some of them lacerated by McTeague's teeth--flew, and the little pile of cheap toys in the basket at her elbow grew steadily.
"Where DO all the toys go to ?" she murmured.


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